


you're spaced out on sensation

by shinykari (meinterrupted)



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Matt Murdock, Community: daredevilbingo, Dom/sub, Ice Play, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Praise Kink, Sensation Play, Top Foggy Nelson, sub matt murdock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinterrupted/pseuds/shinykari
Summary: Matt's naked and kneeling near the end of the bed, knees spread wide, and Foggy has used a silk rope--red, of course--to tie his wrists behind his back. The white noise machine and the oscillating fan make it difficult for him to focus accurately on what's going on around him, but he can hear the rub of Foggy's slacks and the soft pad of his feet as he moves. His gaze is a physical thing, sliding across Matt's skin, and his hard cock twitches in anticipation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely self-indulgent porn with zero redeeming value. Title is from "The Time Warp" from Rocky Horror Picture Show, which vera-invenire suggested in a 'fic you won't write' meme. Surprise! I wrote it.
> 
> This fic includes some BDSM practices (bondage, sensation play, orgasm denial), so please read responsibly. It also fulfills the 'praise kink' square on [my Daredevil Bingo card.](http://shinykari.tumblr.com/post/147998785689) Unbeta'd, sorry.

"Ready?"

Matt nods enthusiastically, tilting his head toward Foggy's voice. He's naked and kneeling near the end of the bed, knees spread wide, and Foggy has used a silk rope--red, of course--to tie his wrists behind his back. The white noise machine and the oscillating fan make it difficult for him to focus accurately on what's going on around him, but he can hear the rub of Foggy's slacks and the soft pad of his feet as he moves. His gaze is a physical thing, sliding across Matt's skin, and his hard cock twitches in anticipation.

Foggy chuckles, a low, happy sound that sends sparks up Matt's spine. "With your words, please," he says, circling the bed.

Verbal confirmation and safewords are important to Foggy, so Matt agreed to them, even though he'll never safeword out. There's nothing Foggy could do to him--nothing Foggy _would_ do to him--that Matt will ever not want. "Yes, I'm ready," he whispers, smiling at the uptick in Foggy's heartbeat. 

He hears Foggy swallow. "Good, Matty. You're doing so good," he says, and runs a gentle hand through Matt's hair. Matt bites back a whine and shifts, spreading his knees wider and leaning into the touch. He's been hard ever since Foggy told him to strip and get on the bed, and he can feel a cool, damp spot where his precome has leaked onto the comforter. He knows he's not the only one; he feels almost drunk on the scent Foggy's arousal and the sound of his cock rubbing against the inside of his trousers. He needs to get his mouth on Foggy, to swallow him down and drown himself in Foggy's taste and scent, and Matt tries to reach out, only to be stopped by the rope tying his wrists.

Foggy leans in and kisses Matt, soft and gentle with just a hint of tongue, cupping his head with the hand still buried in his hair. Matt whimpers and presses into him, trying to deepen the kiss, but Foggy backs away. Matt takes a deep breath and tries to relax, to sit back on his heels and wait for what Foggy will give him. 

Just when he's about to break, to beg Foggy to kiss him again, Foggy does. Matt groans into his mouth, then gasps when Foggy bites down on his bottom lip. "Good?" Foggy asks, and he's close enough that Matt can feel his pleased grin. Before Matt can answer, Foggy drags his blunt nails down Matt's chest. The reddened trails they leave throb as his blood rushes to the surface of his skin, and Matt sucks in a shuddering breath as he hears Foggy pick up the bowl of ice he'd set next to the bed. He's bracing himself for the feel of ice on his skin, tensing up unconsciously, when Foggy lays his free hand on Matt's shoulder. "Relax," he murmurs, breath warm against Matt's ear.

Matt breathes deep and uncoils his muscles one-by-one, releasing the tension with each exhale. He trusts Foggy implicitly, but years of instinct and habit are hard to break. He reaches out with his senses, muffled though they are, and latches on to Foggy's heartbeat, a solid anchor to ground him. 

"Good job, baby, you're doing so good for me," Foggy says, and a spark of pleasure shoots up Matt's spine at the unexpected pet name. He hears Foggy's sharp intake of breath and smells a spike in his arousal; he must of reacted to those words more visibly than he thought.

Before he can examine that thought and pull himself out of the soft, warm cocoon of anticipation, Foggy wraps a dry hand around Matt's cock and strokes him once, twice, three times. Matt barely manages to keep himself from thrusting wildly into empty air when Foggy lets go.

Foggy's answering laugh is dark and rich and slides over his skin like silk. "Shh, I got you," he says, kneeling on the carpet in front of Matt. Foggy runs his hands over Matt's stomach, tracing the ragged edges of his scars and the outlines of old bruises, using his nails as often as the soft pads of his fingers. With his other senses muted, each touch is magnified a thousandfold, and Matt swears he can feel the loops and whorls of Foggy's fingerprints branded into his skin. 

His lips are hot when he leans in to press a kiss to Matt's navel. Foggy's shirt brushes Matt's erection as he kisses a path down the trail of hair on Matt's stomach; though it's not a deliberate tease, Matt gasps. He desperately wants those lips on his cock, but Foggy bypasses it, alternating kisses and gentle nipping bites from the crease of his thigh down to his knee and back up the other leg.

"How you doing?" Foggy asks, rubbing his cheek against the sensitive skin of Matt's inner thigh.

Matt swallows, and it takes a minute for him to come up with words with Foggy's stubble distracting him. "You didn't shave this morning," he says.

Foggy laughs, and the sound vibrates through Matt's body. "That is true, but not the question I asked."

Matt tries to reach down to pet Foggy's hair before he realizes he's still tied up. "I'm really good," he says finally, feeling oddly floaty.

"Good." He leans back so that there isn't a single point of contact between them, and Matt whines. Foggy shushes him as he rearranges himself on the floor. "Patience, grasshopper," he jokes, before swallowing Matt's cock down as far as he can.

"Jesus," Matt hisses, surprised by the sudden shock of cold instead of heat. He'd forgotten about the ice cubes.

Foggy pulls off, and even though Matt can't see him, he knows he's wearing a shit-eating grin. "Blasphemy," he scolds, word slightly muffled by the ice cube. "What would Father Lantom think?"

Matt really wants to spit out a pithy answer to that question, but every thought flies out of his head when Foggy puts his mouth back on Matt's cock. The ice cube is mostly melted, just a small chip that provides an intense, frozen counterpoint to the heat of Foggy's mouth. It's too much and not enough, because just when Matt can feel his orgasm creeping up on him, Foggy backs off, trading suction for gentle kisses to Matt's stomach, his inner thighs, even his calves. 

His whole body is singing, and he feels like a piano wire strung so tight he's about to snap, but Foggy is relentless. He brings Matt to the edge again, and Matt feels tears leaking from his eyes when Foggy pulls back. "P-Please," he begs, voice breaking. "Please, Foggy."

"I got you, Matty," Foggy says, and wraps his hand around the base of Matt's cock. He barely gets his mouth on the head before Matt's coming, back bowing as pleasure screams through his body. Foggy eases him through it with his hands and his mouth, taking everything Matt is giving him without complaint. It feels so good, too good. Matt whimpers and tries to pull away, but his muscles won't cooperate. 

Foggy understands, Foggy _always_ understands, and Matt's oversensitive cock falls from his lips. "Can you stay right there for me, baby?" he asks, petting Matt's thigh.

Matt nods, and thanks Heaven and all the saints that Foggy doesn't try to get a verbal response from him right now. He can hear Foggy moving around the room and undressing, and as each piece of clothing falls to the floor, the scent of his arousal grows, until it fills Matt's senses. Matt's dick twitches as the rich aroma coats the back of his tongue, and he's half-hard again by the time Foggy's standing naked in front of him. 

Foggy's fingers are gentle as he runs them through Matt's hair. He's flushed all the way down his body, and Matt can practically taste the salty bite of his pre-come in the air. Matt _wants_.

"Still good?" 

Matt nods, and leans forward to press a messy kiss to Foggy's chest. "Yes," he murmurs, rubbing his face against Foggy's skin.

"I'm going to untie your hands now, Matty," Foggy says, his breath hitching on the words. He doesn't move away from Matt, just reaches behind him and pulls on the silk rope, releasing the knot Matt had thought unnecessarily complicated. Now, he's glad Foggy took the time before, because he doesn't know if he'd be able to wait for Foggy to untie a regular knot. 

Once his hands are free, Foggy directs him to lay on his back. Matt whimpers a little at the thought of losing contact with Foggy's skin, but Foggy presses a gentle kiss to his temple. "I'll be right behind you, okay? Trust me."

It takes a moment for Matt to get his legs to cooperate; he's been kneeling for a long time. But soon enough, he's sprawled out on his back, and Foggy pushes and prods him until he can buckle Matt's wrists into the cuffs attached to the headboard. Matt tests the bonds, just a little, and his stomach flip flops at the feeling of being held fast. 

Foggy straddles his thighs. "Color?" he asks, wrapping his hand around Matt's nearly-hard cock and stroking gently.

"Green," Matt breathes, hips jerking up toward Foggy.

"Good." Foggy releases his cock and it slaps against Matt's stomach, fully hard now. Foggy's weight shifts, and Matt spreads his legs to make room for him in between them. Foggy opens the bottle of lube and squirts a good measure on his hands. "Tilt your hips up a little, baby," he says, and Matt does, giving Foggy enough space to slide a pillow under him. 

The lube is cold when Foggy presses one finger against Matt's hole, and he flinches. But Foggy doesn't push it in, just rubs small circles until it's warm and Matt's relaxed. His other hand is on Matt's cock, jerking him slowly. He keeps circling until Matt is nearly crazy with the need to feel him inside, and then one finger isn't nearly enough. "More," Matt grunts out.

Foggy laughs but complies, fucking him with two fingers, then three in quick succession. He curls his fingers until he rubs against Matt's prostate, and Matt's hips fly off the bed. "Ready?" Foggy asks, fingers moving in Matt's ass.

"Yes, yes," Matt says, not caring how desperate he sounds.

He whines when Foggy removes his fingers and drops his cock, even though he can hear him opening a condom and knows it's only for a moment. Foggy adds a little more lube, and then the head of his cock is right there, sliding glacially slow inside.

Matt focuses on the feel of Foggy opening him up, the bite of pain as his hole stretches to accommodate Foggy's dick, the scratch of his pubic hair, and the incredibly intimate feeling of connection when he's finally fully seated. "Jesus, Matty," Foggy breathes, voice wrecked. "You're so tight."

He grins up at Foggy and clenches down on Foggy's cock. Foggy gasps in surprise and fucks into Matt hard enough that he moves up the bed and the slap of skin on skin echoes through the room. His stomach, plush and slick with sweat, rubs against the underside of Matt's cock, and Matt can't stifle his moan. "Kiss me," Matt begs, and Foggy does. He can taste himself on Foggy's tongue, salty and bitter, and underneath that, a hint of black coffee and mint toothpaste. 

Foggy sets a slow, methodical pace. Matt braces his feet on the bed, but doesn't urge him to go faster; that would only make him slow down. Instead he inhales, drawing Foggy's arousal into his lungs, letting himself wallow in it.

"You're beautiful, Matty, you know that?" Foggy says, and Matt's eyes fly open in surprise. His voice is low and rough, and his heartbeat is perfectly steady. "You're beautiful and so, so good. I know you think there's a devil inside you, but you're wrong. There's no way a devil could live inside someone so good."

Matt blinks rapidly, trying to will his tears away, but it's no use; they slip out anyway. Foggy doesn't stop, telling him how smart and kind and beautiful and _good_ he is, even as his rhythm speeds up and he starts hitting Matt's prostate with unerring accuracy. Matt is openly crying when Foggy reaches between them for his cock, pulling Matt's orgasm from him with a few short jerks. "I love you," he says, and with a few more punishing thrusts, Foggy comes, his cock pulsing inside Matt to the beat of his heart.

They lay like that for a few minutes, Matt's come growing cold and sticky between them. Eventually, Foggy pulls out and gets rid of the condom, leaving Matt alone on the bed as he turns off the fan and the white noise machine and goes into the bathroom to clean up.

Matt knows he's only gone a minute, but that minute stretches into hours in his sex-addled brain. He's almost surprised when Foggy comes back and unbuckles the cuffs.

"How're you feeling?" he asks, rubbing Matt's left wrist.

Matt feels… Matt feels wonderful. He smiles up at Foggy as he switches over to the other wrist, massaging feeling back into Matt's hands. Foggy doesn't press for an answer, just wipes the come off his stomach with a warm washcloth. 

The bedsprings squeak as he shifts his weight and Matt must make some sort of sound, because Foggy's hands are back on him almost immediately. "Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Foggy says. "Just had to get this." He puts the lip of a water bottle against Matt's lips, and suddenly Matt is so thirsty. He drinks down probably half the water before Foggy takes it away. "You can have the rest in a minute," he reassures him, setting it down on the nightstand.

With one hand still on Matt's arm, Foggy reaches over for a blanket and covers both of them with it. He lies down and spoons up behind Matt, slinging one arm over his waist. Matt threads their fingers together, feeling light and happy. 

Matt drifts somewhere between sleep and waking for a while, listening to Foggy's heartbeat, strong and steady in his chest. Eventually, the endorphins recede, leaving his body pleasantly sore, and he turns over so he can face Foggy.

Foggy leans in until their foreheads touch. "Back down to Earth, buddy?"

"Yeah," Matt says, throat raw. He aches like he's gone a few rounds in the ring, but his mind is clear and sharp. "I love you," he says.

"I love you too, Matty," Foggy says.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [Tumblr](http://shinykari.tumblr.com). :)


End file.
